


Process of Resolution

by littletechiebird



Category: DCU, DCU - Comicverse, Nightwing (Comic), Red Robin (Comics), Robin (Comics)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-09
Updated: 2012-07-09
Packaged: 2017-11-09 11:55:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/455150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littletechiebird/pseuds/littletechiebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Whenever there's conflict, it's not the easiest thing in the world to come to a resolution -- especially in a relationship. After all they've gone through, its harder to predict, to remember, the change in just how the action will affect the other. But stepping back, stepping away, just long enough to clear his head.. Sometimes that's just what anybody needs to do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Process of Resolution

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Untitled](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/9750) by Kaciart/Julie. 



It’s the burn.

 

The burn that flares in his nose, behind and around his eyes, at the base of his neck, and even in his jaw for how hard it’s being clenched. It’s because no matter how hard he fights for control as he shuts his eyes tightly, there’s no helping it once Dick has scooped him up in his arms. Like his jaw, his chest has clenched itself so tightly from trying to hold back, but there’s no holding back the tears, the hurt, the anger. He hates that he’s angry, too. 

 

The soft whispers that graze his ear, trying to calm him, go unheard. He can’t focus, won’t focus, on the words being said. Its the anger that makes them fall nearly mute, down to a general hum of apologies, explanations. Neither of them make it any better. That wasn’t what he was looking for. He shifts, leaning back before he leans in again to press his forehead to Dick’s own. It relieves some of the pressure in his neck that had helped to intensify the burn. It was a comfort that he wished he could relish in, and normally did, but right now, this time, it was too much. After everything that had happened, this was too hard. It was too much because how could he not think -- He’d _tried_ not to think--

 

“I love you, Tim.”

 

Right now, those words just hurt. They made the burning worse. He wanted to beg him to stop, not to speak, but his throat was closed off and it was hard enough to breathe. It was for that reason, the strain he was putting on himself and his body, that his breathing had become uneven, shaky, strangled. 

 

“...I know it must not seem like that sometimes with the stupid things I do. But I do. So much.”

 

But no, no he doesn’t want to hear that right now. It’s not fair. It hurts because it feels, he feels, so lonely.

 

Tim is trying to will his voice to work. He needs Dick to know, to understand, because its just not that easy. The apologies, the “I love you”s will not make it go away. He wished it would. He didn’t want to feel like he did. It was a feeling so hot that it turned him cold. It reminded him of knowing what it felt like to feel so empty and alone. ...He’d been angry then too.

 

Tripping over himself as he began to speak, he willed himself to keep from further stammering once he cleared the first word.

 

“S... Sometimes I wish I had a choice about falling in love with you, Dick.” Breathing in, he willed himself on. While the words came, while they were level and logical (Or he hoped they were, thought they were, but how clouded was his judgement in that moment?) “Because, I’ve opened myself up. I’ve made a conscious decision to let one person hurt me more than any other person…hoping they don’t.” He feels Dick’s intake of breath before he catches the soft, shallow sound. It makes his hand rise to allow his fingers to gently press themselves to Dick’s lips, hoping the gesture will be understood and appreciated, and that he will be allowed to finish. There’s not much left to say, his words are limited, but he needs them to be enough. 

 

“But... I’m not so lucky. And it does. It hurts so much, Dick.”

 

The last line, and the insight he gives with it, breaks him a little more and brings his voice to crack. Tears are falling faster, just when he finally thought he was getting a handle on it all and settling himself back to a calmed state of being. He knows himself better than that, though. So he should not have expected more. 

 

A warm wetness trickles down to his fingertips, slipping further to settle in between his fingers before it continues to create a path, down the back of his hand. The warmth cools quickly from the liquid, and he knows that they’re Dick’s tears, even though his eyes remain so tightly shut, because he just can’t face the saddened, guilty gaze of those light blue eyes that he feels are staring at him with such remorse and love. 

 

He’ll crumble under that gaze.

 

Muscles tighten under his arm and hand as it drapes across the older man’s shoulders. He can feel fear and question rising between them as he finally cracks his eyes open, making the mistake of glancing to meet the eyes that are still so strongly focused upon him. He quickly shuts his eyes again as his body flinches, waiting for the silence to be broken.

 

“…Are you breaking up with me, Timmy?”

 

The way Dick’s voice breaks as he asks, it sparks a flood of guilt that gushes forth from his gut. He feels so _responsible_ and he just can’t take hearing him like that. His tone is always so strong. It brings out a warmth, a light, in him just when he listens to him speak. Right now, its just nothing like that. It’s not just the way he asks, but what he asks that hurts. 

 

“No, no I’m not. But I hurt so much, Dick.”

 

All he’d ever wanted was a chance to love Dick like this. To show him just how much he meant and be luckily enough, selfish enough, to have him to himself in that way... but make him happy. 

 

Was he doing that?

 

Raising his head just enough so that their foreheads no longer touched, he leaned down, hands raising to either sides of Dick’s face to gently linger there, and grazed his lips over Dick’s own before moving in for a longer one. It lasted for a few seconds, relaying Tim’s own guilt, his hesitance, and the longing for things to just feel better again. All the while, Tim felt Dick’s guilt, his remorse, his worry. He was held tighter in the man’s grasp, as if he knew that Tim was going to pull away. As the kiss was broken, his lips curled in, teeth lightly biting down to hold them in place as he gathered himself to speak again. 

 

“..I’m going to go now. I’ll be staying with the Kents for a few days.” His voice was low, practically a whisper. He didn’t think he could manage much more. 

 

“I just need to think.”

 

But again, Dick’s hold tightens around him again and he buries his face into Tim’s shoulder. He knows that Dick is fighting himself not to beg him to stay, but he can’t help the silent pleas like this, and Tim knows that’s exactly what it is. He wishes he could give in, but it would make things worse. He knows it. That’s just what he doesn’t want for them.. because he wants this to work. By doing this, he’d trying to do better. He’s not keeping himself quiet, not dismissing himself, and that way he won’t get irreparably hurt, and won’t do the same to their relationship. He swears its for the best, and he hopes he’s right. To himself, he wonders if that’s why it hurts so much more than staying quiet and suffering alone.

 

Hearing the sound of his bag being set on the floor, he knows Kon is waiting in the doorway. 

 

“I need to go.” He murmurs again, but this time he spoke a little firmer. He had to go before his mind was changed. He couldn’t have that. He was doing the right thing. This would be good, even if it didn’t feel that way in that moment.

 

Dick didn’t say a word. Tim was lowered to the floor without a word, but much hesitance. He’s clearly forcing himself to listen to Tim and allow him to go. Tim feels it in the way his limbs move as they peel themselves away.

 

Tim takes a few steps back, putting the initial space between them, and it feels like something inside of him is being burned away. It hurts.

 

“I’ll.. see you in a few days, okay?”

 

There’s no response, no nod of affirmation. There’s nothing. All the same, Tim turns to leave, seeing his friend waiting for him in the doorway. They walk out together, and as the door closes, Tim really can’t tell anymore if he feels any better or any worse. A hand is clapped onto his shoulder, squeezing lightly as some kind of offered support. There’s a long period of silence before Kon finally speaks, though he had initially felt as if he had been trying to say something after the initial contact.

 

“He really does love you, y’know?”

 

But there’s something odd in his tone as he says it.

 

\------

_36 hours earlier_

\------

 

Being faced with the shock, worry that’s written all over his friend’s face was something that he had expected to see. He wasn’t exactly composed at the moment, and that was a rare thing. Kon knew that, and that was the reasoning behind his expression. It wasn’t hard to catch the way his eyes darted over every inch of him, and he wouldn’t have doubted that he’d momentarily negated the unspoken privacy agreement between friends to inspect that he had no broken bones as well. Seeing that he was in one piece seemed to settle him down somewhat, all while making him that much more curious and worried in new ways as to what could upset Tim this much.

 

Tim didn’t blame him, but it had been a shame to see the grin melt away from his face after he’d initially opened the door. He’d probably thought he was getting a surprise visit of a more.. positive manner. He wished he was, and he wished he had. He hated calling on Kon for something like this under such circumstances but he was his best friend, and he honestly felt as if he had nowhere else to turn.

 

“Tim... Man, what’s wrong?”

 

The teen just shook his head, shutting his eyes tightly as he tried to override the rushing emotions that were threatening to come back to the surface to ruin him all over again. He really did not need to be breaking down into such a floundering mess in front of Kon. The dried tear tracks on his face, stuffy nose, and red eyes that were lined with petechiae was more than enough. He’d already done one breakdown today. He hoped he wouldn’t be due for another for a while at the very least -- and a long while at that.

 

His friend’s hands seized his shoulders, holding tight, thumb rubbing through the fabric. Tim’s eyes shut tightly as Kon crouched in the slightest to try and meet them. He didn’t have the strength to meet anyone’s gaze. He felt weak, vulnerable, foolish, childish. He was probably blowing things out of proportion, but he couldn’t stop hurting. In time, he’d likely scold himself for this -- reacting this way. He probably should have stayed to listen but.. right now, he’d heard enough. It had felt so much like torture. It had felt like it was getting worse with each moment that passed while he was there. It didn’t exactly feel better now that he’d gotten away -- speeding away from the city, taking the long drive and feeling the wind rushing against his skin, that had been the only, albeit temporary, help -- but it wasn’t nearly as suffocating.

 

“..Come on. Let’s go inside.” 

 

It seemed like Conner was being so careful with him, not wanting to push him into moving, speaking, or even meeting his gaze when he didn’t want to right now. Maybe he seemed more fragile than he’d thought. He cursed himself for that too. All the same, he finally nodded, eyes cracking open to see that Conner had shifted back to stand normally, no longer trying to meet his level. He stepped to the side, hand falling back to place while the other slipped around his shoulder and steered him into the house. He allowed it, following through the doorway and to their usual place in the kitchen. He felt so robotic, so he supposed he was rather grateful as Conner sat him down in the chair at the end of the table and took the chair beside him, settling his hand back between his shoulders, rubbing the area there and up to the base of his neck. 

 

Tim’s shoulders sagged before the rest of his body followed suit, dropping his elbows to the tabletop as his face fell into place in his hands, unable to put up a fight as tears started to drag down his cheeks as they slipped from his eyes to refresh the previous tracks that had only just dried. His head tilted further, chin moving closer to his body as he curled a little more into himself for his hands to press against his forehead, pushing up his bangs, so much like Dick always did to kiss him there every time he came home--

 

Tears fell faster. 

 

Kon respected the silence, only hoping that Tim would speak up when he was comfortable, or he might have to chance going out on a limb to help coax him into explaining so maybe he could make sure that everything was at least a little alright at the basics, since overall it was pretty obvious that things weren’t okay. He continued to rub circles on his back to try and help soothe him as he silently cried, eyes shut tight again, body jerking with each silent sob he was trying to fight.

 

He wanted to assure him, tell him it was alright, but how could he possibly when he didn’t even know where to start? Not just that, but beyond the worry, a part of him was ready to snap and go beat the hell out of whatever, or whomever, had been the one to cause this. 

 

A light knock at the door to the kitchen was the only sound to be heard in the otherwise silent farmhouse besides Tim’s quiet sniffles -- and to Kon’, the quiet footsteps of Ma’s that had preceded the knock, and Pa’s snoring. The footsteps had been picked up subconsciously, his focus being set upon Tim, but they, coupled with Ma’s familiar heartbeat and knocking, were his indicators of who was currently calling his attention away. As he turned in the slightest towards the door, he watched as Ma opened the door and leaned against the frame, holding her robe closed over her nightgown while her other reached across her body to rest upon the doorframe. Her eyes were alit with concern, only glancing to Tim but not allowing it to linger as she then looked to Conner in stead. She said nothing about the situation, and asked only one question.

 

“Will I put the kettle on, Conner?”

 

A sheepish, grateful Grin was the first part of Kon’s response. 

 

“Yeah, that would be great, Ma.”

 

She gave a hummed affirmative and made the initial move to start on her task, but Tim’s voice, the first time Kon had heard it that night, was what stopped her. 

 

“S-Sorry if I woke you, Mrs. Kent.”

 

A gentle, genuine smile came across her lips then and she gave a small huff to go with her smile, wanting to give the boy nothing but comfort and warmth.

 

“Nonsense, Timothy, and it’s ‘Ma’.”

 

It was a light scolding, a teasing reminder of what his manners brought him to constantly forget and skip over, because he felt in no way entitled to act so familiar. He felt just as rude when all he could manage was a nod to her, head bobbing up and down, hands moving with it, as he gave the signal of acknowledgement. 

 

“Now, would you like some tea? It’s much too late for coffee. I don’t want you boys up all night. Or maybe cocoa would be better, hm?”

 

“Cocoa is good, Ma. Thanks.”

 

“Cocoa it is. I suppose you’ll need a snack with it too. Just give me a few minutes, you two.”

 

A quiet expression of appreciation was Tim’s response, though weak, was bolstered by Kon’s stronger and more enthusiastic one. He wasn’t sure what it was, but something about Ma’s presence was a little more sobering for him, helping Tim settle and stow his feelings, tears slowing and drying up once more on his cheeks. It made it easier to breathe, something he was grateful for. 

 

Eventually his hands lowered, one hand slipping over the other to grasp it tightly as his eyes focused on the light brown finish of the wooden table, tracing the lines, noting the places where it was a bit worn from the continued, loving, careful use over the many years. His eyes only shifted their gaze to his hands when Kon’s own slipped over his two that were clasped, squeezing tightly but gently so. It was another gesture to comfort him, and maybe to help him relax a little more. He hadn’t noticed how tightly he clasped his own hand, and how his knuckles had gone white. Maybe he was still struggling with himself for control.

 

It was just over ten minutes later when Ma Kent sat their respective cups of cocoa before them, and a plate with a few of the cookies she had cooked just before dinner. Both boys verbalized their appreciation once more, which was merely shaken off by the woman as unnecessary, though sweet.

 

“Now you two enjoy but don’t stay up too late. Conner, you have to help Pa with the chores in the morning. You know the routine. Timothy, I do hope you’ll be spending the day with us as well? I’ll cook a good breakfast for you boys. I remember how you like your eggs, dear. In fact, I hope you’ll stay as long as you need. Our door is always open for you. Now goodnight, boys. I’ll see you in the morning. Please get some rest.”

 

She was so take-charge. Her words were always so to-the-point, and she always said what needed to be said right away. Something about that was reassuring, and quite endearing. 

 

“Goodnight Mrs. K--”

 

The woman cleared her throat, turning only to send a look back to Tim that made Kon snigger.

 

“..Ma.” He corrected, unable to keep a slight, sheepish smile from surfacing as he watched her expression brighten before she offered a curt nod and bid them goodnight once more before turning and closing the door behind her as she headed back to bed. Kon’s eyes were turned towards the upper corner of the room, clearly focused in on the sound of Ma heading back to her room. The meta listened for the sound of her door clicking shut before he turned back in his seat to face Tim, seeing his hands wrapped around the warm cup of cocoa, thumb brushing up and down the slick surface, staring into the light brown liquid.

 

“..So.. Wanna share?” 

 

Waiting expectantly, he made no move to press Tim further for an answer. 

 

“We just.. got into a disagreement.” It was good Kon had super-hearing. Tim was speaking so low it would have been quite difficult to listen and properly carry on a conversation otherwise. “Dick and I.” He clarified.

 

“That’s quite the disagreement, dude.” Was the offered comment, lips pursed, brows knitted together. 

 

Tim flinched in the slightest. “..It’s complicated.”

 

“It always is with you Bats.”

 

Tim couldn’t exactly argue with that. He knew he and his family tended to make things a lot more complicated than they needed to be. That was probably where half of the problems stemmed from. For what was certainly not the first, and definitely not the last, time that night, the smaller male shut his eyes tightly and shook his head, seemingly unable to explain himself yet. He didn’t want to jump back into those complications, those wounds, so quickly.

 

“I just couldn’t be there anymore. Not tonight.”

 

Conner sighed. He had hoped for a better answer than that. Waiting around without one wasn’t the easiest, especially after seeing his friend so deeply..  affected by whatever this was. He felt like helping was going to be a lot harder without those answers, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t do it, and it didn’t mean he wouldn’t try.

 

“Alright. Well you heard Ma.. The door is always open. Why don’t you stay for a few days? You owed me a visit anyway.”

 

A slight smirk, markedly relieved by the offer and the light tone of the conversation. “..Yeah. Alright.”

 

“Good! How about we go back, pick up a few of your things so you’re not stranded without your stuff while you stay?”

 

The idea seemed to spark a conflict within Tim, something he temporarily worried about. He had another question too.

 

“..Plus it might be.. uh.. kinda good to tell him you’re stayin’.. so he doesn’t worry or whatever... right?”

 

There was a long pause during which Tim simply stared at the mug in his hands once more. Finally, he nodded, seeming to see the presence of the other’s rare logic in his offer. There was no verbal response this time. Tim merely nodded, to which Kon responded with the same. 

 

“So it’s settled. Great.”  

 

Another grin was tossed over to his friend’s way, hoping he could help inspire a lighter atmosphere once more. They could talk about the more serious stuff in a day or two. He’d just offer a getaway tonight. Sometimes you just needed to forget, and indulge in something different to regain yourself, and your strength before the problem could be faced again. He’d help him figure it out. That’s what friends did. 

 

“I’m thinking we should go ahead and tackle the cookie and cocoa combination before it gets too late. If I know Ma, she’ll probably check on us again in a bit. If we haven’t followed her direction and headed towards bed here soon, we might be kinda in for it.” Yet, as sinister as that sounded, Kon was practically laughing. A weaker smile had returned, making Tim shake his head. He could agree to that. “‘Sides. Cocoa is always better when it’s warm.”

 

The two raised their glasses to their lips, Kon filling the silence with lighter humor, soon able to incite a bit of Tim’s wit to give him a hard time. Kon didn’t mind. It was something he always welcomed, and it would always be better than that look he’d seen when he’d opened the door just a short while earlier.

 

\------

_A few days later_

\------

 

_“You sure you’re okay?”_

__

_A smile. “Yeah, Conner. I’m alright. These last few days.. I’ve really needed them.”_

__

_An awkward grin, the boy rubs the back of his neck. “Well.. good. Yeah. I’m glad. Just.. I dunno. Don’t be a stranger. ‘N I’m here now and all that.”_

__

_It was easy to see just how hard the “emotional” expression was for him. It just made Tim want to laugh this time, and he did so freely. It was a good feeling, and a good thing to know. To rely on his best friend being there, being back.. Having him to turn to when he needed him was something he sorely, desperately, required._

__

_“Thanks, Kon.”_

__

_Wrapping his arms tightly around his best friend was a good feeling as he felt the awkward tension before Kon returned the gesture. Expression in this sense was something that was rare for both of them. Maybe that was why it felt so good then and when it really did happen. But he pulled away, pulled on his backpack, and grabbed his helmet before the engine of his bike roared to life. He spared a moment for a wave before the wheels of his bike spun, turning up dirt as he made the move to rev down the dirt pathway to the road, and speed back the way he’d come just days before._

__

The scene replayed in his head from hours before as he darted into the next lane. He was a little wary about returning home, but he looked forward to it at the same time. He wanted resolution. He wanted this to be.. behind them. He wanted normalcy back. He felt more like himself after days with Kon, and even Ma and Pa had greatly helped. Their family lifestyle was something he had so little experience with, but he liked it. It was nice. It was something he was glad his friend had. Not only that, but he saw how happy the couple was to have Conner in their lives. They didn’t take a single thing for granted. That was the way to live. He knew that well. It was a lesson he’d learned a time or two.. or three. Maybe it was closer to four.

 

Breathing in deep, he let go of it evenly, the hot air rushing through his helmet. The air was whipping against his body, lashing at his clothes. It was a feeling he reveled in, finding it truly calming as he moved with the traffic, so close to the bigger vehicles. He was pressing it a bit today, especially with speed. It felt better, and he just wanted to be home. The drive was long enough. 

 

Luck was on his side, since no cop was sighted on his way home. A ticket was avoided, though he knew if he’d been on any radar, it would’ve been a fine for sure -- or more like a moment where he’d have to figure out a way to get out of losing his license.

 

It wasn’t his best idea.

 

Even so, it felt that much better as he pulled the bike into their personal garage, moving to the stairs with lacked patience. He wouldn’t have been able to stand the wait that came with the elevator, even if he used the priority key to take him right up to the penthouse. Because right now, he felt good. Things weren’t perfect, they were far from it, but he had a better handle on it. It wasn’t something he needed to run from, or something that would make things fall apart. They’d both messed up, they’d both needed to learn. It was what happened to be so close after so much change. Besides, they’d always acted differently in different situations, in almost every situation in fact. Mistakes were bound to be made. With mistakes, came experience. They didn’t have to be so damning.. 

 

Upon reaching the door, he paused. His eyes were in his hand, but it was early morning. So early, but so late, that this was normally when they stole away for an hour or two of sleep if a report wasn’t too pressing, or if something else didn’t demand their attention. The sun was getting ready to peek out over the city, to start what would have been his sixth day away. It had been long enough. But he hadn’t just taken time to regain himself in the end. He’d taken time to reestablish his friendship too with a friend that was still newly returned to the game. He figured he’d owed him that at the very least, and it had only been just over an extra day. Kon hadn’t been the only one to need it, Tim had too. It made things feel a little less surreal, and a lot more comfortable. 

 

Now was the moment to return to the “hard part” again. It was, currently, the more complicated part of his reality. There was a lot that they needed to talk through, there were explanations that needed to be gone through, apologies that needed to be made, and compromises with proper planning for action changes in the future. Or at least, that was the plan in and of itself. There was no guarantee that it would go that way, or that smoothly. He wondered.. Was Dick angry? Had he wanted to call? Had he tried to, and then stopped because he’d begged for that very space he’d been given? Or maybe he’d messed up that badly. A lot could change in those few days, and maybe it hadn’t done the good for Dick that it had done for him. Tim felt as if it was a gamble, and that was one of many reasons for his anxiety that he tried to quell. 

 

For the second time that night, he takes in a deep breath, soon letting it slip right passed his lips again. He gathers himself and finally settles the key into the lock, turning it and letting himself inside. He’s making the extra effort to do so, pulling the key back out of the lock and closes the door, locking it once more. He takes his shoes off by the door and walks further in, sitting his keys on the counter. Tim pulls off his jacket and sets it on the back of the chair that sits opposite the couch where he barely catches sight of the sprawled form that’s settled on their couch. Light blue eyes soften though he suddenly feels a fresh pang of guilt. Why there..? It was almost akin to a child that was punishing himself.. It was honestly pitiful. It made him feel awful. It really couldn’t be that comfortable. Their couch was plenty nice, yet it seemed like it hardly accommodated him. Not only that, but he didn’t even have a proper pillow. Just a pillow they’d paired with the couch, and a sheet. That wasn’t any way to sleep..

 

Fondly, he smiled and approached quietly, carefully lowering himself as he raised his leg to press his knee into the couch right next to Dick’s side, right hand settling on the side opposite while his left hovered next to his knee. Leaning down, much like when he had left, he brushed his lips over the slightly parted ones before him. Earning a tired hum, he knew he’d started to get the attention he was seeking out. Again, he kissed him though it was much less of a tease. Their lips pressed together in a much more satisfying sense, allowing him to momentarily revel in the small contact that gave a taste of the other man’s warmth. 

 

Once more he’d earned a hum, though it was more pleased, more awake. He pulled back, just a fraction or so, and noted the tired yet beaming expression that stared up at him. 

 

“I’m home.”

 

Arms that had rested above Dick’s head rose and lowered again, though this time to settle around TIm and pull him further onto the couch, and much closer. It seemed that this talk, when they finally decided to, would have the chance to start off on a much better note.

 

“Good morning.” Came the further greeting.

 

“I missed you.”


End file.
